


I Just Can't See No Reason Why You Bother With Me (But I'm Satisfied With You)

by citizenjess (givehimonemore)



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ejaculate, I Saw The Light, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), M/M, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Thor: Ragnarok (2017), get help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 15:56:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14876841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givehimonemore/pseuds/citizenjess
Summary: "I'm not doing Get Help." Spoiler alert: He does. Chaos ensues.





	I Just Can't See No Reason Why You Bother With Me (But I'm Satisfied With You)

**Author's Note:**

> This basically combines an idea I had with my love for Jotun Loki (and despair that I have yet to write my own Jotun Loki AU). It serves as both an alternative to canon (with the same outcome), and a gapfiller for the precious few moments Thor and Loki get to spend together between Ragnarok and Part 1 of Infinity War, because maybe if we pretend it never happened, it'll come true. Spoiler alert: It might hurt a bit, sorry not sorry. Ridiculously sentimental title is lyrics from a Hank Williams song called "I'm Satisfied With You."

It had started as something of a joke. That is, Thor isn't absolutely certain how much of what happened next had to do with him actually attempting to lob Loki at Hela as a distraction while their fellow Asgardian citizens clamored aboard the rescue ship, and how much of it was simply Hela being Hela. It mattered not, however, when Hela turned the tables, and held Loki aloft by the neck in an absurd show of physical strength. 

"Loki!" Thor yells, but Loki can only gag slightly in response. "Hela, enough! Let him go!" 

Hela's grin is toothy. "Not so quick to spout off overtures now, are you?" she says to Loki, but to her credit, she does lower him slightly then so that his feet scrape just the ground. No longer outright choking, Loki's face nearly returns to its usual pallor, though he does not attempt to lash out, magically or otherwise, at Hela. Thor suspects this is due to some invisible function of seidr that even Loki's considerable sorcery skills are unable to overcome. Though they are nearly the same height now, Hela's sheer presence makes her appear taller.

The Goddess of Death appears to study Loki. "Interesting," she muses, and suddenly he screams as tendrils of dark, smoke-like magic swirl predominantly around his upper half. Thor and Brunnhilde can only watch as the color and texture of Loki's skin begins to darken, until his face and hands reach a blue, nearly purple pigment, now resplendent with the usually hidden markings of his geneological birthright. "A Jotun," she decrees, and Loki continues to struggle as Thor and the Valkyrie look on, shocked. Vaguely, it occurs to Loki that his brother has never seen his 'true' form before. Hela continues to smile. "Well, half-Jotun, anyway. Father thought they were all monsters," she notes idly. "Would have exterminated the entire race if he hadn't made that ridiculous deal with their King." She grips Loki's face, forcing eye contact. "Were you a war prize, then?" she queries. "Some halfling runt that Laufey would have drowned or abandoned eventually anyway, had you not proven useful to him?"

"ENOUGH!" Thor bellows. Thunder crackles at his fingers, though he does not test his newfound ability to aim a controlled burst at Hela, for fear of further harming his brother. "Let him go, Hela," he adds. "Take me instead." As if to add underscore his words, the rescue ship begins to take off, rising steadily in the air. Only the four of them remain on Asgard now. 

Hela snarls. For one terrifying moment, Thor is certain that she will skewer Loki in front of them, simply out of spite. Instead, however, she tosses him to the side several feet away as if he weighs nothing more than a ragdoll. Unencumbered anew, Loki moves to attack Hela, but he is easily rebuffed. Alas, both he and Brunnhilde can merely watch as Hela tugs Thor to her with another smokey wisp of magic, grips him similarly by the throat, Loki just far enough away to be ineffectual at blocking his brother's transit. Their eyes meet ever so briefly, however, Thor's gruesomely gouged right socket standing in for what was once the other half of a set. "Asgard's not a place, it's a ... p-people," he manages to choke out, and Loki's brow furrows as he struggles to simultaneously understand and confront all that is happening. 

Naturally, Hela has no intention of giving them time to communicate further. With an appropriately devilish smirk, she leaps effortlessly into the air and, presumably, back inside of the palace, taking Thor with her. Loki and Brunnhilde both stare helplessly after them for a long moment, and then, it is just the two of them. 

Eventually, their gazes turn, almost reluctantly, towards one another. Feeling self conscious, Loki magics his Aesir glamour back over his original form, something he learned to do almost immediately after finding out about his true heritage. In spite of their rocky interactions thus far, Brunnhilde is tactful enough not to comment on it. Instead: "Do you know what he meant?" she queries. 

Standing and brushing himself off, Loki shakes his head a little. "It's ... something our father said to us before he died." The words come out soft, owing both to lingering guilt related to all that had transpired as of late, as well as sheer numbness. Thor, foolish, golden Thor, his brother, no matter how angrily he had tried to deny such a connection in the past, had all but sacrificed himself for Loki. While he can hold his own well enough in battle, the trickster god is the first to admit that he carries little of Thor's fighting prowess. Alongside Brunnhilde, they could still be formidable, which is likely what Thor had decided, if he had thought that far ahead at all; something tells Loki that his overwhelming inclination was simply to keep Loki safe, which is just, well, so very Thor of him. Loki can almost convince himself to hate him for it, if only so that he does not break down and weep at the prospect of it being the last he'll ever get to see him.

As if to hammer home the notion that, after everything, the idea of losing Thor like this makes Loki want to drop dead where he now stands, Brunnhilde lets out a 'whoosh' of air. "We're going to try to save him, right?" she asks, and then, more pointedly, "or were you planning to simply run away again?"

Loki's anger, always so effortless, always so closely within reach, flares. With only a bit of difficulty, his rational brain manages to override it, the stakes too high not to. "What did you have in mind?" he replies. 

Once more, Brunnhilde avoids digging into him for his (many) transgressions. "The people can't come back to Asgard as long as Hela's still here," she muses, and suddenly, Loki knows exactly what they can do.

*

The throne room is still a mess. Hela has not bothered to clean up the ruined ceiling, and Thor suspects she does not particularly care about the impressions of any future guests. For now, he sits in a mostly bare spot several feet before the throne, occupied, of course, by Asgard's new Queen. The manacles around his wrists are not tight, but they serve as an effective enough representation of Thor's predicament.

For the moment, Hela simply watches him. There is no rush at this point, her almost thoughtful study of him seems to say; she has won, and Thor is her trophy, already mounted on the wall, a conversation piece. For his part, Thor appears to play well the role of submissive captive, accepting of their new place below a will more important than their own. Inwardly, he hopes Loki and Brunnhilde can catch up to the Grandmaster's biggest ship quickly. The notion of rescue crosses his mind, of course - he would not have attempted to remind Loki of the existence of Surtur's crown in Odin's private vault if it hadn't - but he knows what they're up against. He's pretty sure they all do. And so for now, Thor attempts to mete out the time in which he can sit calmly and breathe and think mostly of nothing, in case it does not last.

Naturally, even the Goddess of Death gets bored eventually. "Skurge was a good Executioner," she proposes, her face propped on one hand. Then, she shrugs: "Until he wasn't." She and Thor make eye contact. "How long after I loose you from your chains will you try to betray me?" she asks him.

Thor shrugs as well. "What is there to betray you for?" he asks honestly. 'Who,' he corrects himself silently, and okay, perhaps the margin of his brain currently dedicated to whatever constitutes 'the other stuff besides mostly nothing' is more active than he wants to admit to himself. Perhaps, even, the 'other stuff' is more like one specific type of stuff, one whose face had been as lovely and terrified while watercolored in a layer of blue and embroidered with purposeful intent by nature as Thor had always known it to be while smooth and sometimes almost ethereally pale. Perhaps -

There's a sound all of the sudden, like rumbling. It makes some of the rubble from Hela's unfinished redecorating project shift and dance erratically up and down. After that, things in the ensuing span of action condensed into a very short period of time seem to happen in slow motion: One, Thor feels the chains keeping his arms locked behind his back go somewhat more slack. 

Two, he is fairly certain he sees a flash of green cape out of the corner of his remaining eye, and makes a mental note to remember the sardonic, silent comment he makes to himself about his limited peripheral vision, in case he survives this and can tell it to Loki later, after which Loki will likely roll his eyes but while he's begrudgingly smiling, and so the two basically cancel one another out. 

Three, he is fairly certain that Hela sees said flash of cape, as well. 

Four, the rumbling grows louder, and when the first wisps of smoke emanate from below, from the altar of the Eternal Flame, he knows, Thor calculates how long it will take him to get safely out of the palace before Surtur reaches his full mass, or even before there is visual confirmation that, in fact, the fire demon has indeed taken his previously assumed corporeal form; 

He (five) runs.

*

There are lots of practical details to attend to once the Commodore has, in fact, caught up to the Grandmaster's larger of the ships they have, ahem, stolen again. (Korg has graciously agreed to drive the (AHEM) 'orgy ship' alongside them all, sans Miek, of course, who is Korg's wingman-slash-passenger seat passenger.) It keeps them busy, almost mindlessly so, and then when it's over, there's a restless energy in the air that hints that sleep might be yet fairly far off.

Sensing this, Thor's hand taps Loki's elbow in a way he hopes appears casual. "Come and have a drink with me," he says, and Loki nods and trails after him (several paces behind, even), down three hallways, and then they're at the door of the spacious master cabin that Thor has claimed by default by way of his position as Asgard's latest ruler, and going inside, and if Thor didn't know better, he'd think the same door had a mind of its own, being able to lock itself behind them.

It doesn't take much. Thor's gaze meets Loki's, and then Thor pushes his brother bodily against the back of the yet aforementioned door, and kisses him soundly on the mouth. That lasts for a good couple of minutes, their trading feverish kisses back and forth, gripping, clinging, begging one another without words to stay, stay, stay, and then they're both stripping out of their clothing, helping one another, kicking off garments, working in unison to achieve the common goal of being able to press their naked flesh together, part by part, like two halves of a cookie stuck together with frosting; a comparison that, though crude, would likely prove itself to be more accurate than intended. 

They make their way towards the obscenely ornate bed in the center of the suite's main chamber. If they wanted, they could hide in there without interruption clear through the afternoon, nearly until they reached Earth, if they really, truly wanted to, a fact which likely crossed both their minds. Thor sits on the edge, leaving his bare legs hanging over the mattress. "Thor?" Loki queries, unsure why things seem to have stalled.

"Loki." Thor glances up at him, beautiful even with only one eye. He grasps one of Loki's hands in both of his own. "I want to see you. I want to see the real you," he clarifies when Loki's confused expression does not dissipate. 

Now, in its place, however, there is an expression of shock, humility. "Thor - " Loki says again, a little more desperately than before. He starts pulling his hand away, but Thor holds it steadfastly. 

"No more hiding." It's almost a whisper, low and husky with affection. "Show me who you are, Loki."

It's only a little less surprising the second time around. His eyes, in particular, are striking, like dark rubies. The hand holding Loki's wrist begins tracing the newly uncovered patterns on his azure skin. A shiver seems to go through Loki. "Okay?" he asks, and Loki gives him a small smile and he returns it. "Does it feel good?" he asks. Without waiting for an answer: "How do you think it will feel other places? Your chest?" he continues, and then, drawing him closer, Thor tongue traces a stripe up Loki's torso that curves around his nipple and ends at his armpit. "Your neck?" he murmurs, and the next line ends just beneath Loki's ear. He can hear Loki exhale shakily. "Your ... cheek?" he jokes, and they both laugh as Thor does, in fact, lick Loki's face. Then they're kissing again, and rolling onto the bed together. 

The sex is steady and rhythmic. Loki's legs wrap around Thor's waist, and only the way he squeezes them together erratically belies how in control he's really feeling. "Your forehead?" Thor says, sort of randomly at one point, and Loki digs his heel into his brother's ass cheek.

"If you start playing that stupid game again, I swear."

Thor laughs. "What if I painted each one with my come?"

"That's just disgusting."

Thor isn't feeling particularly mature at the moment, however. Maybe, he thinks, he's pretty tired after, well, everything. "My cock would be the brush."

"Thor, holy fuck."

"I mean, technically, this is." 

"Thor, fuck me already, you great fucking oaf," Loki yells, and fortunately for the both of them, Thor manages to pull himself together enough to acquiesce. To his credit, when they have, in fact, both come, he manages to restrain himself from using it to paint his brother with. Not to his credit, he decides to point this fact out to Loki. "Why," Loki bemoans, and Thor leans down to envelop the next noise he makes with his own mouth.

Eventually, they're splayed, chest to chest, against one another. Thor's fingers begin to trace the two small, curved horns currently poking out of the top of Loki's head. "No helmet required," he comments idly, and Loki smiles. Then, because he is incapable of being serious for more than two seconds tonight, he grips them both lightly, playfully, like handles. "Something to hold onto."

"God damn it," Loki growls, and it seems most appropriate for his Jotun form, if nothing else, because of that persona's somewhat more pointed teeth, but he's so annoyed with Thor's goofing around that he transforms back to his usual guise, the horns gradually sliding beneath his (now pale, albeit somewhat flushed at the moment) skin. "You're lucky you're hot," he grumbles, and Thor plants a kiss on his now smooth forehead.

"What would you do if I wasn't, stab me?" 

Loki rolls his eyes. "You know, come to think of it, beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

"Who said that?" Thor asks.

Loki shrugs. "I don't know. Some mortal."

"Was it The Rock?"

"The what?" Loki's face scrunches. Thor kisses him again. 

"It is a man. I once heard Jane Foster's young assistant, Darcy, talk about him. He is a very popular mortal with many muscles."

"Of course, why not," Loki replies, and he's going to complain every time over the course of the ensuing evening that Thor is going to interrupt his shallow sleep with another stupid fucking joke, but deep down, he knows - and barely even skin deep, Thor knows - that it's just a ruse to hide the fact that he will forever be grateful that Thor is alive enough to be lying next to him right now, cock resting on his hip, that they have been given an incredible gift, each other. As they both settle into sleep in a brief respite from Thor's verbal idiocies, they join most of the other occupants of the ship that, while they all get some much needed rest, steers them, steadily and continuously, towards their new home, towards Asgard's future itself, Earth.


End file.
